


Escape from Rimmen

by Captain_Savvy



Series: The Stormcrown Prophecy [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age Origins, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Alfiq, Altmer - Freeform, Assassin - Freeform, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Dragon Age/Elder Scrolls, Elf, Elsweyr, Khajiit - Freeform, Rimmen, Skyrim - Freeform, Tamriel, bath house shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:13:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Savvy/pseuds/Captain_Savvy
Summary: The alfiq, Jodar-Ri, and his friend, Zavrian of the Dark Brotherhood, sneak into the Thalmor Embassy of Rimmen to find information. They find more than they bargained for.





	Escape from Rimmen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnippetsRUs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnippetsRUs/gifts).

> This is a prologue of sorts for a Dragon Age/Skyrim AU story being written by SnippetsRus. Featured here is Altmer!Zevran, named Zavrian, and an alfiq named Jodar-Ri.
> 
> **art done by the amazing Enolezdrata.**

Jodar-Ri glared at the many papers laid out before him. His whiskers twitched and his tail danced in agitation. The handsome black and white alfiq sat upon a table in his room at The Sugar Bowl, where he had been studying books and scrolls about the Void Nights for days. Again and again he had read them, but he had not found what he sought. Some things did not fit or add up, but it was simply not enough to satisfy him. Generally he loved research, but this matter was too important. He needed answers.  
  
It had all begun with off-hand comments overheard in the city. He remembered it clearly, and his ears flattened in anger at the recollection. It had been a balmy day in the Rimmen market, pleasant of air and calm of scent. The morning had been spent procuring items from the traders. Then, two Thalmor had walked by while Jodar-Ri enjoyed his lunch of smoked fish in the shade of a tree, strutting in their fancy elven robes with their noses stuck in the air.   
  
“What I wouldn’t give to be back in Alinor where the wine is sweet and clean. It seems I can’t buy a drink from these damnable cats without finding fur in it.”  
  
“That’s what you get dining with unclean, ignorant beasts. To think, the fools still believe we brought back their precious moons.”  
  
“Lower your voice, imbecile. They may be ignorant but they have keen ears.”  
  
Needless to say, Jodar-Ri had lost his appetite at once. Angry, and too sickened to enjoy his perfectly seasoned trout, he had retreated to the shadows rather than attack the arrogant altmer. Oh, how he would have liked to roast them from the inside out with magical fire and demand to know their secrets! But Jodar-Ri was no fool. Such an action would bring down the might of the elves and all the guards upon him. Now was the time to be discreet.  
  
The accolades his people had given the Thalmor for ending the Void Nights had never sat well with him. He had studied magic and history since he was a kitten, and something about the stories had always felt off. Now he knew why… but small inconsistencies were not proof. He could not go before the Mane with speculation and rumor and claim that their heroes and allies had tricked them. He could not prove anything with hearsay, and if he dared to speak against the Thalmor without solid evidence of their lies, he would risk death.

So he had begun hunting for proof. He'd spent hours poring over tome after tome- and yet, all of his research, all of his digging, and still he had found nothing.  
  
Luckily, he was not without resources. Or friends.  
  
  
Jodar-Ri looked over his shoulder to see a figure slipping through the open second-story window. The newcomer was tall and lean, dressed in the black and red armor of the Dark Brotherhood. When the figure straightened, golden eyes and a devilish smile shone from beneath the shadow of his hood.  
  
“Do you always have to make such an entrance?” Jodar-Ri asked. “You could use the front door.”  
  
“Ah, but that is less exciting.” The hood was pushed back to reveal pointed ears and a hair of pale, braided hair. A tattoo of two curved lines marked his face. He was an altmer- though he was so unlike his kin in manner that he could hardly be called such. “Besides, there could be someone watching on the lower floors. This was to be a secret meeting, yes?”  
  
Jodar-Ri rolled his cat’s eyes. Zavrian was mysterious and sneaky by trade, but the alfiq thought he enjoyed it a bit too much. He had told no one else what he was researching, so the Thalmor would have no reason to be watching him… yet. The khajiit sighed.  
  
“Yes, this one did say to keep it secret. Very well, marked one, all that matters is that you are here.”  
  
He stood on all fours and gave the nearest book a frustrated shove with his forepaw. Only the weight of the tome kept it from flying off onto the floor.  
  
“Days of research into the Void Nights, yet this one has learned nothing useful.”  
  
“Nothing at all?”  
  
“Nothing to disprove what the Thalmor claim. It is all the same story, but only small discrepancies here and there. This one cannot go to the Mane unless he has proof.”

Zavrian grinned, a knowing glint in his golden eyes.

  
“And you need my help to get this proof.”  
  
“Clever as always, friend.” The alfiq turned to face him and gestured at a chair. “Sit down and break bread with Jodar-Ri. There is a plan to be discussed.”

  
  
* * *

  
  
The next day found Jodar-Ri padding naked through the streets of Rimmen. Well, at least he had his fur, but he felt rather bare without his normal attire. He missed his silken cape, his jewelry and patterned headscarf. Without his handsome garb, however, he could pass for a common street cat instead of a fashionable alfiq. This was what he needed; to pass unnoticed, to be no one of consequence. Of course, a lone cat might raise suspicion walking into the Thalmor headquarters at Rimmen palace. Khajiiti guards would likely recognize him for what he was- so he was not going alone.  
  
He walked at the heels of what appeared to be a Thalmor agent. Just how Zavrian had gotten his hands on the hooded grey robes Jodar-Ri wasn’t sure, but he was not concerned about that. What was important was that the altmer looked every bit the snobbish Thalmor. Makeup concealed the tattoo that made him so unique, and he had even perfected the strut and the disgusted sneer. Khajiit, bosmer and humans avoided him, and if anyone noticed that an alfiq followed they gave no sign.

Zavrian made his way at a relaxed pace through the city. It was Jester's Day throughout Tamriel, and that meant that there was an aura of celebration in the air. Children had the most fun playing pranks, but many adults also got in on them. Aside from that there were costumes, music, food and drink to be had. Someone had already emptied a bucket of flower petals on his head- thankfully harmless as far as pranks go. The holiday offered the perfect opportunity for the assassin to complete this mission his friend had given him; people would be distracted by the festivities, making his job much easier than it might have been otherwise.

As they passed the shallow moats outside the bathhouses he noticed a familiar face. There were a couple of dunmer women standing and chatting. One recognized him and stepped into his path.

"Well, Zavrian, if it isn't my favorite altmer," she said with a smile. She wore a loose fitting robe and carried a basket of towels, soaps and clean clothes. "I never figured that you would lower yourself to the level of the Thalmor."

"Oh, I haven't, my dear Eltrys," he answered with a charming grin, "I am simply doing some... unofficial work."

"Oh, I see." Her red eyes twinkled. "I figured perhaps you were dressed as a clown for Jester's Day."

Jodar-Ri couldn't help but laugh at the insinuation that the Thalmor were clowns. Eltrys blinked in surprise at the laughing cat for a moment before realization set in.

"Introduce us to your friend."

"This is the illustrious Jodar-Ri," Zavrian said. "But for today, he is just 'kitty kitty'."

The alfiq's ears flattened and he blushed beneath his fur. He would have to give Zavrian a severe scratch for that later.

"If the lovely ladies will pardon us," Jodar-Ri said, "this one and his _friend _have business to tend to."

"Good luck." Eltrys winked at them both. "We're off to the bathhouses to tend our own business."

Zavrian sighed as he watched the two dunmer walk away.

"Ah, to be bathing with Eltrys rather than sneaking into the embassy..."

"_Focus_!" The alfiq hissed and bumped against his friend's leg. "Woo the ladies when you are not on a _very important mission!" _

With a shrug and a chuckle Zavrian did as told. Slowly they climbed the many stairs that led to the palace. Jodar-Ri remained close, and when they reached the tall, ornate doors, he easily slipped beneath the tail of his friend's robes and was hidden from sight.

  
The guards on either side of the entrance said nothing as Zavrian entered. It was not strange for the Thalmor to come and go as they pleased; their headquarters were within the palace, and seeing as Elsweyr was a part of the Aldmeri Dominion, it made sense. Once inside, Jodar-Ri emerged from his hiding place. It was well known that the palace housed many cats; the Queen was fond of them, after all. He hesitated but a moment, then took a sharp right, avoiding the inner stairs that would lead to the throne room. The offices he sought were in another wing of the grand building.  
  
It was not Zavrian’s first time being in the palace. His work had brought him there more than once; even his charming home of Elsweyr was not free of the corruption and underhanded dealings of the court. The Brotherhood often found its best paying jobs in the circles of high society. Because of his previous visits, he knew where they needed to go and when. He quickly took the lead. An annoyed huff from his friend made him smile. Jodar-Ri would have complained at being out-paced, had it been safe for him to speak.  
  
Outside the Thalmor headquarters he found two altmer guards in their fine golden armor. The elven cult certainly wanted no one getting into their business, it seemed. Zavrian’s tension didn’t show on his face; he was expressionless as he walked forward, not sparing the guards a glance, and pushed open the door. On the other side was another long hallway lined with rooms. Some were no doubt sleeping quarters, but it was the offices they needed. Jodar-Ri darted forward and peeked easily into the open door of the first room. He skipped it, and then ducked into the second. Zavrian followed, shutting the door behind him; a quick look told him they were alone, as he’d guessed they would be, and he locked the door.  
  
Stepping into the room was like walking into a different part of the world. The bright and colorful tapestries and furniture of the palace were gone, replaced with more demure décor from the Summerset Isles. No incense burned, no plush cushions offered soft seating - though there were several elaborately carved desks and chairs. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organized books, scrolls and stacked parchments. It was to one of these that Jodar-Ri immediately went.  
  
“Good,” he whispered. “Now to begin, but we must be swift. This one will start low. The marked one should start high.”  
  
“Normally my work involves cutting throats, not reading books,” Zavrian commented, though he did as asked. “We are looking for information on the Void Nights, yes?”  
  
“Proof that the Thalmor lied to make themselves appear the heroes.”  
  
It quickly became obvious that their search wouldn’t be as easy as they’d hoped. While many of the documents were written in the common tongue, and some in the speech of the khajiit, most were recorded in the elegant script of the Altmer. To make matters worse, Zavrian was not well versed in the language of his own race. They went through one book, then another, and another, without finding anything of use. Jodar-Ri let out a soft growl of frustration as he angrily used magic to shove the latest book back onto the shelf.  
  
“Dark Moons, there must be something here,” he hissed. “Anything!”  
  
Zavrian glanced at the window, taking note of the sun’s location. He frowned; he had studied the daily goings and comings of the Thalmor agents in the palace, and he feared their time was running short.  
  
“We should hurry. If they stick to their schedule, they will be returning here soon. I may not be able to convince the Thalmor themselves to believe my disguise.”  
  
The elf moved from the shelf to the desk. To his great relief he found the drawer unlocked (for all his skill with a blade, he was not gifted with lock picks). Within were various items; quills, a few coins, a flask of drink… and a journal. Interested, he scooped it up and flipped it open. As many times before, the words were a jumble to his eyes; he cursed himself again for having never learned more of altmer lettering. Only a few words were recognizable, but no better than jibberish. He could see that the date was recent, however, the ink slightly smudged, as though whoever had been writing was urgently recording their thoughts. A folded map was tucked inside the journal … a map of Skyrim. Zavrian’s eyebrow raised quizzically. He removed it and looked it over. A place was marked on the front- a spot in mountains that he did not know- but on the back he recognized stylized sketches of dragons and the runic writing of the Nords. Beneath the runes a translation was scrawled in the common speech.  
  
_Dragons Will Return. Daughters of Talos._  
  
“Aha! This one has found something!”  
  
Zavrian glanced up to see his feline companion standing over an open scroll, nearly purring in his excitement. Paws patted the paper joyously.  
  
“The blank paper, marked one, quickly!”  
  
The elf set down the journal and reached into his robes for the supplies he had brought. Swiftly he unrolled the parchment and laid it down beside the scroll that his friend had found. Jodar-Ri set to work then. A soft glow of magic appeared as he concentrated on a spell to copy the text. Zavrian read it as he did so, his own golden eyes widening in surprise. Here was the proof they had wanted, laid out as plain as day.  
  
The spell required great focus. Jodar-Ri had to read each word and transfer it with magic and mind. He had learned such spells long ago, since writing without thumbs was quite difficult. Despite his skill it took quite a long time; he was half aware of his friend moving restlessly from the window to the door to see if they would be discovered. When he had finally finished the alfiq sat back on his haunches with a tired sigh.  
  
“Good, and now this one.”  
  
Zavrian plopped the journal down in front of him.  
  
“What?” Jodar-Ri looked at the writing. “Why? This one cannot read the altmer letters.”  
  
“Not all of it.” He showed the map. “But this is important, I am sure.”  
  
“Elsweyr is this one’s concern, not Skyrim.”  
  
“Look at this, Jodar-Ri.”  
  
He did look, and his eyes widened. “Dragons,” he whispered, his mind running over what he knew of them. There was a dark period in the history of his homeland where the beasts ravaged the cities, decimating whole villages and killing thousands. Dragons returning would spell death not only for Skyrim but for all of Tamriel. If the Thalmor had this information, did it mean they thought it was true? Were they a part of it somehow?  
  
“Hurry, my friend.”  
  
“Yes, yes, of course.”  
  
The alfiq gave a sharp sigh and set to work, his brow furrowed. Zavrian returned the other scroll to its place and returned to the door, pressing his ear against it to listen. For a while the only sounds were the occasional turning of a page, the low hum of magic, and the noise of the wind outside. Suddenly, as he feared, he heard voices beyond the door.  
  
“Quickly!” he hissed. Jodar-Ri focused, doing his best, using all of his will. The copied text became sloppy as he rapidly turned the pages. His mana was spent before he was able to finish. The spell fizzled out and he swayed on his paws, vision blurred slightly. The doorknob rattled.  
  
“What is this?” A voice called. “Who is in there? Unlock this door!”  
  
Zavrian dashed across the room and snatched up the journal and map, folding them together and shoving them back in the drawer. Angry fists banged on the door, joined now by more demanding voices. The assassin looked around for his options, and his gaze settled on the window. The palace’s moat was far below. Swiftly he peeled out of the Thalmor robes and tossed them on the floor, then shoved the copied texts inside his armor. In the next moment he scooped up his feline friend and held him securely against his chest with one arm, unlatching and opening the shutters with the other.  
  
“Time to make our daring exit, my friend.”  
  
He felt the alfiq’s claws pierce leather in fright.  
  
“Dark Moons, you cannot truly mean to-"

The door burst open behind them. Zavrian spared a glance at the elves swarming through. Three hooded Thalmor wearing the signs of Jester's Day burst in. One wore a flower crown, one was splashed with blue paint, and the third had somehow managed to be made up like some sort of horrifying cross between a doll and a clown. Several armed guards piled in behind them, all shouting orders for the assassin to halt, surrender, stand down. With a grin and a salute to the crowd of unhappy altmer he turned and leapt from the window.

The alfiq in his arms yowled as they fell. A thrill rushed through Zavrian, lifting his heart, running through every bone in his body as the wind rushed by. He pointed his toes together. _Splash!_ All sound was suddenly blotted out by water. For a moment the world was all bubbles and deep cold, but he quickly pumped his legs and surfaced for a gulp of air. Jodar-Ri still clung to his chest, small head above the water sputtering and coughing. Zavrian spared a glance up at the window. The three hooded Thalmor were preparing to jump.

"Oh, _of course_."

Swiftly he swam to the edge of the moat. As he lifted himself and Jodar-Ri out he heard a splash in the water behind him. There was no time to shake the dampness from his person or to check on his friend (though if the claws digging into his armor were any indication, the alfiq was fine). He set off at a run.

"Stop that tattooed bastard!" The wet and angry Thalmor behind him roared. "And grab the blasted cat!"

"I am not a cat!" Jodar-Ri hissed angrily over his friend's shoulder, ears flattened against his damp head.

Well, so much for both disguises.

Zavrian heard the clinking of armor that signaled guards were on the move. He wrapped one arm securely around Jodar-Ri and picked up the pace; he dodged around townsfolk, nimbly sidestepping khajiiti women carrying baskets and men hauling crates and barrels. A cart rolled into his way- he leapt up, locked his fingers onto the edge, and vaulted over. He rolled as he landed and was back on his feet. Where to go? Where to hide? He could not win a battle against the Thalmor and all the guards of Rimmen.

_The bathhouse! _

He turned, following the edge of the long-running moats. Arrows whipped past, one coming so close that it nearly caught his pointed ear.

"This was not a part of the plan!!" Jodar-Ri screeched.

"We did not have a plan for this occurrence, my friend!"

Zavrian threw himself against the bathhouse door and crashed through. The warm humidity inside nearly took his breath, but that was nothing compared to the smell of delicate soaps and the sight of the naked bathers who halted to look at him curiously. The elf closed the door behind him and locked it before continuing on at a brisk walk.

"Pardon me. Excuse us, darling. We do not mean to intrude. Oh, what a beauty. Hello, my lovely, nice to see you again."

"THIS IS THE WOMEN'S BATH, YOU FURLESS FOOL!" 

Jodar-Ri covered his eyes with his forepaws, forcing Zavrian to cradle him like a babe or risk dropping him.

"This one saw nothing, he swears!"

"You are missing out, my friend."

"NO."

"I must say I did not expect to see you here."

Eltrys stepped in his way, hands on her hips. She was joined by a group of women; dunmer, khajiit, nords, even an argonian. The fact that they were fully unclothed did not seem to embarrass them at all. Of course, Zavrian didn't mind.

"Thalmor troubles," Zavrian explained. "I fear I cannot stop, or I would join you."

"You are already soaking wet," Eltrys pointed out with a raised brow. "I doubt you need a bath."

"This one will need several baths after this," Jodar-Ri grumbled, eyes still hidden. "Hurry on, or put this one down!"

"If I put you down, you will have to lower your paws and see _everything_."

"This one will keep his eyes closed!"

"Then you may bump your nose on some unsuspecting lady's-"

"NO."

"Go, Zavrian," Eltrys stepped forward and brushed her lips against his cheek. "We will distract them for you."

"With what?"

"You know what I am." She grinned and picked up a bathing brush. "I can use anything as a weapon."

Just then the door they had come through was forced open.

"We owe you one!"

Zavrian winked and then took off again. He ducked into a bathing stall, kicked over the wooden tub and climbed on top of it to reach a high window. As chaos erupted inside the bath house he deftly slipped out with his friend cradled against him. Women screamed, water splashed, and altmer voices apologized behind him. From the sound of it, the ladies were giving the Thalmor a righteous beating for entering a private area uninvited.

Zavrian hoped that his friends would not pay with their freedom for helping him. Now moving in a crouch, he placed Jodar-Ri on the ground. The sodden alfiq looked miserable; he shivered and attempted to shake the water from his fur, with little success. The two of them moved into a shaded alleyway and settled behind some crates.

"Did the documents survive your very wet escape plan?" The alfiq looked up at Zavrian, hoping he hadn't gone through all of that just to lose them.

"They are fine, my friend. My armor is well oiled to protect against water, and the pages are enchanted as well."

"Good." He let out a weary breath. "This one fears the worst, that he must leave Rimmen altogether. Let us hurry to this one's room at the inn, and then out of the city."

Together they moved carefully and quietly through the streets. It was slow going- it seemed all of the guards had been turned out, and all of the Thalmor as well. At every other corner they had to double back and find a different route that would not take them past their hunters. As it turned out, there would be no entering The Sugar Bowl at all. The place was crawling with guards, and snatches of conversation told them that, despite his effort, Jodar-Ri had been recognized. With a heavy heart he let Zavrian lead him out of Rimmen by a secret way. They went to the place beyond the walls meant for merchant caravans, where they found a small village of wagons, tents and campfires. It was to one of these camps that the pair made their way. There they found a large, burly khajiit sitting outside a brightly colored wagon and roasting fish over an open fire. His fur was the same black-and-white as Jodar-Ri's; he was dressed in a merchant's robes with a turban wrapped around his head and ears. He looked up when the bedraggled duo appeared.

"Greetings!" he said, throwing his arms wide. "Nezdal wondered if it was his little cousin causing the commotion in the city."

"Do not call this one _little_," the alfiq spat.

"But you _are_ little, Jodar-Ri. Much smaller than Nezdal."

"This one swears, if you-"

"What he _means_ to say," Zavrian broke in, "is that we need passage out of Rimmen right away. Can you help us?"

"Nezdal and his caravan are headed northward, to Skyrim, for trade." The large khajiit indicated the wagons behind him with a clawed thumb. "He will gladly give his cousin and his cousin's furless friend a ride... for a price."

"You would not help family in need without asking payment?" Jodar-Ri's ears flattened against his head and his tail twitched, eyes narrowed.

"You ask much." Nezdal put aside the fish and stood. "Family, yes. Nezdal treasures his family, but does his family treasure him? He is not allowed inside Rimmen. A word from Jodar-Ri could have, perhaps, convinced the powers that be to let him sell his wares within the walls. Or to have a home here."

"This one has no power in Rimmen."

"Ah, but you have never come to this one in friendship, not since we were kittens." Nezdal shrugged. "Alfiq do not travel outside of Elsewyr. People in others lands do not understand you or even know of you. And an elf, traveling with khajiit? When this one's wagons are checked at the border the risk will be great for Nezdal."

Jodar-Ri softened. His tail drooped and his gaze fell for a moment. "Forgive this one, Nezdal. He did not think of the danger to you. Forced out of Rimmen without even a scrap of clothing to his name, Jodar-Ri yet promises to pay for your help when he is able."

The merchant placed his hands together and bowed his head. "This is all that Nezdal asks. Will you be going with us all the way to Skyrim?"

"Yes," Zavrian said, "We have business there, believe it or not."

"We do?" Jodar-Ri looked at him in surprise.

"We need someone to translate our books, yes? No one in Elsewyr can do it safely. Any scholars could tip off the Thalmor to what we have discovered." The elf glanced around to make sure no guards were in sight to hear them. "In Skyrim there is a mage college that isn't affiliated with any political power. We can find help there, I am certain."

"Skyrim is at war, so it will be dangerous, but profitable," Nezdal chuckled. "If the caravan runs into trouble, you may be able to earn your keep by fighting for this one."

"That is something that I can do," Zavrian said with a sly smile.

"Climb aboard then, and this one will prepare the others. The sooner Nezdal gets you away from Rimmen, the better."

Within half an hour the caravan was on the move. Three covered wagons rolled slowly down the road away from the city while inside the walls the search was still on for the spies who had breached the Thalmor embassy. Both Zavrian and Jodar-Ri peered from their hiding place as the towers of their home grew smaller and smaller behind them. For better or for worse, they would not be returning to the great city of Rimmen for a long, long while.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Road to Skyrim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22637326) by [Auriana Valoria (AuriV1)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuriV1/pseuds/Auriana%20Valoria), [Captain_Savvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Savvy/pseuds/Captain_Savvy), [SnippetsRUs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnippetsRUs/pseuds/SnippetsRUs)


End file.
